


i will not go quietly into the night

by bulletthestars



Category: Captain America (Comics)
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletthestars/pseuds/bulletthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky finds himself falling for his camp mate, a certain Steve Rogers, despite everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will not go quietly into the night

**Author's Note:**

> Comicsverse, set before Bucky finds out that Steve's Captain America. Filled for [this prompt](http://capkink.livejournal.com/810.html?thread=4138#t4138) on capkink@lj. The scene in 'eight' was adapted from a scene in the 40th anniversary (correct me if I'm wrong) edition of the Captain America comics.

**one.**

It starts off with just one more look, an extra glance thrown Steve's way.

He doesn't mean to look, really.

_It's not as if you don't see him everyday. It's not as if you haven't seen the way his eyes light up when he smiles. It's not as if you haven't seen that strange expression in his eyes when he frowns. But one more look can't hurt, right?_

And then Bucky realises that the moment an idea surfaces in a person's mind, it becomes increasingly difficult to get rid of it.

**two.**

Steve's name feels right on his tongue. He doesn't know why, but he likes saying it, calls him over, savours his name. Steve is none the wiser, answering with an ever ready smile, eyes shining despite everything. He wants to lean close, gather him in his arms, no, he wants Steve to gather him in his arms, wants to get closer, _closer_. He doesn't know why. He doesn't understand.

_We're friends._

He repeats this in his mind, grits his teeth and sinks his nails into his palms as he thinks of it over and over again, tossing and turning on his bed, trying to sleep.

_And only friends._

There's a strange, throbbing sensation inside him that spreads from his heart to his fingertips and it keeps him awake for far too long.

**three.**

They're changing, almost done for the day. Steve pulls his shirt off, bends over and Bucky finds himself looking, _staring_ , catches himself before anyone else can catch him and averts his gaze. He stares at the ground, fiddles with the hem of his shirt, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he hears Steve's voice, talking to someone else.

'Bucky!' Steve calls out and Bucky freezes, not quite daring to turn around to look.

'Y-yeah?'

Steve frowns, blinks. 'Is something wrong?'

'No,' Bucky replies hurriedly. He resists the urge to run, to somewhere, any where, just to get away from Steve and to get his heart to stop pounding so quickly against his ribs that it hurts so badly. 'No, nothing at all.'

**four.**

Knuckles brushing together soon grow into small, experimental touches, fingers curling around fingers only to pull away, seemingly by accident, no one can say for sure.

And in a rush of imagination, he sees them pressed together, he's leaning up into Steve's embrace, their lips are almost touching, _almost_ -

'Bucky,' Steve says, puts his hand on Bucky's shoulder and Bucky jumps, his touch is electric, it sets fire to his entire being and he wants to tell him to stop, to just _stop_ because if he doesn't, he doesn't know what he'll do-

_But what can I do? Nothing, absolutely nothing, because I don't even know what I want._

_Or do I?_

'Steve?'

Steve stares at him. 'I just-'

'Just?' Bucky looks at him expectantly, although he knows that he shouldn't be expecting anything, they're just friends, he's just the _kid_ in camp, nothing more. His expression hardens as Steve shakes his head.

'Never mind,' Steve says and Bucky bites his lip hard as he watches him leave.

**five.**

Bucky figures that the best thing for him to do is to stop thinking about things. He figures that if he runs away, if he runs fast enough, everything will disappear, all his problems will be solved.

He pretends. Fakes smiles, tells himself that the strange feeling unfurling within him doesn't exist, chokes up in the middle of the night thinking about it and forces it back down again.

Everything fades with time.

Bucky assures himself that this will too.

**six.**

Nothing happens.

**seven.**

Bucky dreams of Steve, covering his mouth with his, pinning him down on to the bed, licking at his neck, one leg in between his thighs. He kisses back with fervour, rocking his hips forward to grind against Steve and it feels so good, he doesn't want it to stop.

 _You're just_ friends. _You shouldn't be doing this._

He knows that it's wrong, knows that it's just a dream, wills himself to last longer so the dream wouldn't end. Wishes that he can stay in it forever.

When he wakes up, there's a damp patch on his trousers and his shirt clings to his back, sticky with sweat, and he wonders if not kicking himself awake when he had the chance to was worth it.

(Later, when he thinks back, he knows it was, but he doesn't dare to admit it)

**eight.**

Captain America. _An excellent substitute, perfect for thinking about, unlike a certain Steve Rogers_ , Bucky thinks and tries to focus his thoughts on him. He does it well now, his heart leaps just a little whenever he sees him in the newspapers, whenever he hears someone talking about what he's done.

But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts inadvertently stray to Steve again. It isn't difficult, seeing how Steve's always getting into trouble, and how that strange feeling inside him demands that he help him out. Demands that he do something.

So he does. He tells a white lie, gets Steve off the hook with some made up story and then they're talking, just like they did before Bucky started running away.

'You may want to stay away from the Sergeant for a bit, he's going to be mad when he finds out that there really wasn't a Colonel Feeney,' Bucky says, trying hard not to look at Steve, concentrating on the newspapers that he's holding.

Steve looks at him appreciatively. 'Thanks,' he says, grinning.

'Have you heard of what Captain America did recently? Busted a nest of Nazis!' Bucky says, cutting him off before he can say anything else. 'Wish we could have him around here.'

'Who needs him when you've got me?' Steve says, sounding hurt and Bucky stops in his tracks, his heart skips a beat, he can hardly breathe.

_Did he just-_

'What? You're always clowning around, Steve,' Bucky manages, trying to laugh. It sounds forced, sounds as if he said things a few seconds too late.

Steve shrugs, smiles as he speeds up and Bucky stares, standing still before going after him, immobilised momentarily as the strange feeling coiling up in his gut threatens to break loose and swallow him whole.

**nine.**

Bucky hates it when he wakes up in the middle of a night with a raging hard on.

There's nothing he can do about it, apart from waiting for it to go away. He isn't alone, Steve's in the room too, and so are a whole lot of other people but _God_ , he wants to wrap his fingers around his cock, to bring himself over the edge so he doesn't have to endure this. But it's no use, the fantasies are filling his head, there's that one of Steve kneeling in between his legs again, looking up at him with _those eyes_ before bending down to plant a chaste kiss on his cock. He swirls his tongue on the tip, scrapes his tongue gently and it feels _so damn good_ and Bucky whimpers, almost not realising that he's whimpering in real life and not just in his fantasies.

 _I can do this_ , Bucky thinks, grits his teeth and throws his blanket fully over him, pulling his trousers and underwear until they're around his thighs. He resists the urge to moan as he starts to stroke himself, slides his hand over his cock slowly. He hopes that no one else is awake, prays hard that no one wakes up as he presses a finger to the tip of his cock, spreads the liquid forming at the slit all over, hand stilling when he hears someone shift.

A snore, a groan, incoherent murmurs in a dream, the soft sound of rustling sheets and all is quiet again.

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, strokes himself faster now. The first fantasy is gone now, his breath comes in shallow pants as he thinks of Steve, thinks of biting stories into his skin, kissing every inch of him, thinks of the two of them moving in tandem, with him against the wall and Steve leaning over him, clutching at his waist, moaning his name over and over again and Bucky bites down hard on his lip as his release slams into him.

Part of him wonders how he's going to clean himself up after everything. Another part of him tells him that it's no use running away any more.

**ten.**

Bucky figures that if he gets out of Camp more, it will no longer be a problem.

The other guys try to hook Bucky up with one of their girls.

They dance. Bucky looks up at her, tries to smile but it's uncomfortable, it's awkward. She tells him to move, be careful not to step on her toes and after everything, she smiles at him, kisses his forehead, tells him that she'll consider him in a few years.

_But that's not what I want, or is it?_

Bucky returns to Camp with a dull throb in his heart that doesn't go away until he sees Steve again.

**eleven.**

'You're avoiding me,' Steve says, out of the blue.

'I'm not,' Bucky answers. It's a lie, it's painfully obvious. 'I'm not.'

**twelve.**

They're alone. There's no one around, they've left for town, for the bright lights, for the girls, but anything can happen, anyone can come back at any time.

Steve's sitting across Bucky, they've been sitting there alone for the past fifteen minutes, not saying a word, barely looking at one another.

Bucky breaks the silence first. 'I have somewhere to go, so if you're not-'

'I've been meaning to talk to you,' Steve says, looking at him directly.

Bucky shivers, resists the urge to back away. 'About?'

'I've been thinking,' Steve says slowly, eyes darting around the room, not quite sure of how to continue. 'About. Well. You.'

'Me?'

'You,' Steve repeats, swallowing. 'I know I shouldn't, but I...'

Bucky blinks, processing Steve's words.

'I can't help it,' Steve finishes lamely, giving him that lopsided grin that he has whenever he's worried and doesn't quite know what to do and there it is, that terrible feeling inside him breaks loose and swallows him, consumes him whole.

'Me too,' Bucky finds himself saying in spite of everything. 'I've been thinking about you too.'

**thirteen.**

'We shouldn't be doing this,' Steve murmurs, eyes half lidded and Bucky looks up, pauses. 'It's... Wrong.'

'I - _think it's perfectly alright because it feels right, I want, no, I_ need _this, need to be around you, need you, right now, don't know how but still_ '- know,' Bucky answers, chews on his lower lip for a bit. 'I can't help it, too.'

Steve doesn't answer, and Bucky shifts above him so that it's just right for him. He leans forward, places his hands on Steve's shoulders and presses his lips to his hesitantly.

They stay like this, for God knows how long before a hand tangles itself in Bucky's hair and they kiss (this time, for real) and Bucky trails his tongue along Steve's lower lip, bites on it, just a little before he slips his tongue into Steve's mouth, tasting him.

(Steve tastes much better than he does in Bucky's dreams and fantasies)

Bucky breaks the kiss, going lower to pepper kisses all over Steve's jaw and neck. His hands slip lower to push up Steve's shirt. His fingertips trace lazy patterns all over Steve's stomach, going higher, higher until he brushes a finger against an erect nipple.

Steve's breath hitches, he stills underneath Bucky. 'Don't,' he says. It sounds feeble, weak. He's protesting for the sake of protesting now. 'I'm sorry, we shouldn't... I... God, what am I doing.' Steve closes his eyes, turns his head. 'You're just a-'

_Kid._

The unspoken word hangs thick and heavy in the air. They both know that out there, in the training field, they're equals, if not, one of them is superior to the other. But here, alone, stripped of rank and uniform and everything else-

'I told you, I'm just _Bucky_.' There's a harsh edge to Bucky's voice, he's not quite sure what he's trying to prove when he kisses Steve hard, again and again until Steve moans. He whimpers as he bites on the skin above his collarbone, whimpers again when he flicks a tongue across his nipple and sucks at it. He feels Steve's erection against his stomach, presses against it and Steve gasps.

'Do we?' he asks, and Steve looks up at him. He doesn't know what to say, he wants him to continue, doesn't want him to stop but at the same time he knows that this, whatever that they're doing, they're hurtling down a path of no return.

There's a long, uncomfortable silence.

Bucky decides that he doesn't quite want to hear Steve's answer, no matter what it is. He undoes Steve's trousers with deft fingers, pushes the fabric aside. He doesn't quite know what to do, but he figures that it should be just like what he always does, when he's alone in the showers, stroke, stroke, press a finger to the tip and-

'Bucky,' Steve hisses and Bucky looks up, raises an eyebrow. 'You...' His gaze trails lower, eyeing Bucky's fully clothed body and Bucky feels his cheeks heat up.

'Right,' he murmurs. He gets up, pulls his shirt off, then his trousers and everything else so that he's naked. Steve watches him, transfixed as Bucky climbs atop him again so that their cocks are pressed together, hot skin against skin.

Steve's hips rock forward first. He pulls Bucky down, kisses him and thrusts upwards frantically as Bucky reaches in between them. His hands are all over, gliding across the dip in Bucky's hipbone and then he sinks his nails into the skin.

Bucky moans, strokes slowly as Steve cries out in pleasure, over and over again. They move frantically against one another, eyes clenched tight and voices needy, moving faster, _faster_ until they bring one another to completion.

**fourteen.**

The room feels strangely empty.

There's nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing. They're still pressed together, Steve's arm is around Bucky's waist, their limbs are tangled together and Bucky thinks, _this is how it ought to be_.

(But he knows, deep down, he know that this is how it _shouldn't_ be, it's wrong, he can never be with Steve no matter how much he wants it)

'I'm sorry,' Bucky says as Steve stirs and his eyelids flutter open. He's ready to leave, ready to pretend none of this ever happened, ready to bury everything inside him again (he doesn't know if he'll succeed, but he has to _try_ ) and forget despite what Steve said.

_I've been thinking about you._

It hurts, the coldness travels from his heart to his brain to his toes and he wants so badly to bury his head in Steve's chest for warmth but he knows that it's impossible, he shouldn't, he really shouldn't be hoping for anything more after this.

'We can forget this all happened. I'll clean up the mess,' he says, tries to extract himself from beside Steve. 'I'll be going now.'

'No,' Steve says, pulling him closer.

 _We shouldn't be doing this. It's_ wrong.

_But it feels just right._

_Perfect._

'Stay.'

Bucky does.

 

**end.**


End file.
